What If It's Love?: A Contemporary Romance Set in Paris (Bistro La Bohème Book 1) by Alix Nichols

way. They
knew and understood each other so well. They danced together as if they’d done
it for a living.
    They had shared a room for two nights.
    Once inside her apartment, Lena took a long shower and then started the
kettle to make tea. While she waited for it to boil, she resolved that as from
tomorrow she’d stay away from La Bohème and spend her time doing all the
cool things she’d put on her three lists.
    As the kettle went off, so did the entrance buzzer.
    She went to the intercom by the door. “Hello?”
    “Hi, it’s Rob. I have your eyeglasses. Can you buzz me in?”
    She just stood there, unable to wrap her mind around the situation. “But . . .
Did I leave them on the train?”
    “Yep. I noticed them just before I got off, and by then you were already
gone. I thought you might need them tonight, so I just . . .” He
trailed off. “I was in the neighborhood anyway . . . Can I come
up?”
    “Yes, yes, of course!” She shook off her bafflement. “Third floor, left
of the elevator.”
    Two minutes later Rob walked in, as sexy and gorgeous as ever. Lena
suddenly felt self-conscious about her tangled damp hair, her jersey tank top,
checkered boxers, and rubber flip-flops.
    Oh, well—too late to do anything about it now .
    He handed her the glasses. “As I said, I was in the neighborhood.”
    “Thank you.” She motioned him to the kitchen. “I was making myself some
herbal tea . . . if you like that sort of stuff. Otherwise, I’ve
got regular tea, coffee, soda . . .”
    “A soda will be fine, thanks.”
    She gave him a glass and a can of soda from the fridge, and turned away
to make tea. As she dropped the teabag into the mug, she heard him take a few
steps toward her, then place the soda and the glass on the countertop. Slowly,
she poured scalding water into her mug and put the kettle down. Rob was now so
close she could feel his warm breath on her bare shoulder.
    And then he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his chest
against her back.
    She stood motionless, as her heart raced and her
vision clouded. A swarm of delicious sensations overwhelmed her—his
head-turning masculine scent, the gentleness of his strong arms, the comfort of
his chest against her back. She told herself she had to stop him, right then,
before he went too far. But she knew at some visceral level, in every nerve
ending under her skin, that there was no force on the face of the earth that
could make her stop him now.
    Rob’s mind had gone completely blank when he followed his crazy impulse
and put his arms around Lena. But when Lena froze, he began to panic. He had no
idea how she would react to this. Seconds stretched into an eternity. And then
she leaned back into his embrace, ever so slightly, but enough to tell him what
he needed to know. He wanted to roar with joy. He wanted to see her face. He
wanted to remain in that moment forever.
    Then she turned around and looked into his eyes. She was radiant. It was
one of those charmed instances when everything, absolutely everything was
perfect. This universe, this city, this specific spot in the kitchen, and this
precise instance in time. And so he cupped her face with his hands and kissed
her. Tenderly at first and then passionately, claiming her mouth, sampling the
warm softness of her lips, and sweeping his tongue between them.
    She responded with ardor, saying yes with her kisses, with her hands
stroking the back of his head and with her body pressing into his. Rob was
walking on air. He craved Lena, and she left no doubt she wanted him back.
    But through his arousal and bliss he heard an admonishing voice. You
don’t deserve her trust. You don’t deserve this pleasure. And all at once,
he felt like a fraud, like a thief who had acquired something precious through
deceit.
    He needed her to know the truth.
    Lena was light-headed and drowsy when Rob broke the kiss.
    “I have to tell you something . . . before we go any
further,” he said.
    She